


A Very Short Engagement

by Imogen_Penn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, sham weddings! sham weddings for everyone!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 00:24:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5647201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imogen_Penn/pseuds/Imogen_Penn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy Lewis needs protection, Bucky Barnes needs to rehabilitate his public image, Phil Coulson is a pushy bastard who thinks a fake marriage is the easiest way to accomplish both goals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reprehensiblewombat](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=reprehensiblewombat).



> Written for the Darcyland Secret Santa for reprehensiblewombat. I am sorry it is late, but I hope the epic pile of fluff you are about to receive makes up for it!

“This absolutely cannot be the best solution to this problem.” Darcy was well aware that she was beginning to sound petulant as she stood in Phil Coulson’s office with her arms firmly crossed.

“As I have _repeatedly_ explained,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, “we no longer have the same kind of resources to build covers that we once did.”

“But this isn’t even a _cover_!” she exclaimed, for probably the fifth time.

“He needs public legitimacy and stability, you need protection. We don’t have the resources to fake that with covers.” Phil’s calm demeanour was beginning to fray ever so slightly at the edges.

Darcy huffed in exasperation, leaning against the wall and pressing two fingers to her temples as if she could make this whole situation go away by pressing hard enough.

“And how exactly does this provide him with legitimacy and stability again?”

“I creates a public record, ties his assets to someone with a social security number that doesn’t raise all sorts of questions, and doesn’t hurt his public image.” This was a rote response by this point.

“And explain to me why I need protection?” at this point, she was well aware she was just spinning out the inevitable.

“Your name was released with the SHIELD files. There are plenty of groups out there who are interested in what you know and will take advantage of your lack of SHIELD training.” At this, Phil looked at her with something approaching sympathy.

Damn him and those scrunchy concerned lines around his eyes that reminded her ever so slightly of her Dad. Oh god, what were her parents going to think?

She sighed heavily and sunk into a chair across from Coulson’s desk.

“Let’s just suppose for a minute that I did agree to this obviously insane plan,” she started cautiously, “what would the first step be?”

She could see Phil try very hard not to look relieved that this ordeal was approaching an end.

“Well,” he said, “Meeting the guy might be a good start.”

“Fine,” she said listlessly, “set it up.”

“To be clear Ms. Lewis,” Phil started carefully, “are you agreeing.”

She let out one more long suffering sigh, “It’s not forever right?”

“No,” he assured her, “Just until things calm down and until SHIELD or the Avengers have the resources to manage this in another way.”

“Then yes,” she said, “I am agreeing, so long as he does too.”

“Sergeant Barnes will follow orders,” said Phil far too casually, “He’s waiting outside, I’ll just call him in.”

“What?!” exclaimed Darcy, but it was far too late. She didn’t even have a moment to smooth down her hair before Phil walked out into the hall and came back moment later towing one of the dourest looking men Darcy had ever set eyes on.

She stood up with a start, almost knocking over the chair and probably earning herself an impressive bruise on her thigh.

“Sergeant Barnes,” said Coulson, “Meet Darcy Lewis. Ms. Lewis, Sergeant James Buchannan Barnes.”

The two of them just stood there, avoiding each other’s gaze.

Coulson coughed uncomfortably.

“Well,” he said after a very awkward silence, “we will start discussing strategy tomorrow. For now, I’ll just leave you to get acquainted, if you like.”

He slipped out of the office with remarkable haste.

There was a long and very uncomfortable silence. Sergeant Barnes was standing ramrod straight, his gaze somewhere over her left shoulder.

It didn’t look like he was about to start this incredibly awkward conversation.

“So,” she said tentatively, tucking her hair behind her ear, “I guess we’re getting married?”

+

+

“Oh my GOD Jane, it was the WORST!” Darcy moaned as she flopped across Jane’s bed. Stark tower wasn’t _exactly_ where she wanted to be right now, as it was apparently where the sad marble statue of a man she was supposed to marry for her own protection lived, but Jane assured her that he was on a different floor and never ventured up to the common space near Jane’s apartment. “He didn’t even TALK to me! Just nodded awkwardly until I left!”

“Thor’s offer is always open you know,” said Jane, rummaging through her kitchen to find glasses for the tequila she had pilfered from Tony’s stash.

“So my options are get married to a stone wall or completely leave my whole life behind and hang around doing nothing in Asgard?” she said in a whine, muffled by Jane’s bedding.

“Yes,” said Jane, “those are your choices.”

“Can’t I just take my chances?” she tried, rolling over on to her back as Jane came in with glasses.

“Absolutely not,” said Jane firmly, setting two shot glasses down on her bed side table, filling them, and passing one to Darcy. “Now take this and tell me all about your fiancé.”

Darcy glared at Jane but pulled herself up to a sitting position, resting beside Jane where she had settled against the head board. After the tequila had stopped burning its way down her throat, she let out a long sigh.

“I get it, I do. I know that this is SHIELD and the Avengers trying to help but its just so...” she made a waving gesture with her hand. “I mean, this isn’t my world, you know?”

Jane poured another shot.

“It kind of is though,” said Jane, handing it over, “I mean, you’re, like, best friends with Thor.”

“Well sure,” Darcy agreed easily enough, downing the second shot, “but I don’t hang out in the tower here with you, and I’m no longer involved in any of the crazy space science stuff. I mean, I’ve never even _met_ anyone other than Natasha who I still maintain is the most terrifying person in the whole world.”

“You know,” said Jane considering, “I get the impression from Thor that Natasha and Barnes have some sort of history together.”

“You are _not_ helping,” Darcy huffed.

“Right,” said Jane, looking vaguely amused, “sorry.” Her expression sobered somewhat. “Darce, you know how sorry I am that you got dragged into all this…”

Darcy waved her off, it was a conversation they had had many times.

“But you _did_ get dragged in. And if SHIELD and the Avengers think that this is the best way too keep you safe, then I say go for it. You can make it work. And, I mean, he’s not too hard to look at, right?” Jane asked with a grin as she poured another round.

“No,” said Darcy with a grudging smile, “that super soldier physique isn’t terrible. But it’s hard to get much of an impression of his face with all that hair and frowning.”

She threw back the drink Jane handed her.

“Plus,” she drew a breath, “I mean, he’s a little bit…”

Jane raised an eyebrow as Darcy paused.

“He’s kind of terrifying,” she said in a rush. “I mean, I know you say he’s friends with Captain America and I’m sure Coulson wouldn’t have suggested this if he wasn’t…okay, you know? But I saw the news footage, I saw what he did in D.C., you know?”

Jane reached over and put a comforting hand on Darcy’s arm. There was an odd thud outside that caused them both to look up, but nothing followed so they went back to their conversation.

“I will give you that he’s not exactly the run of the mill guy you meet at a bar, but Steve vouches for him, and you know Coulson wouldn’t put you in any danger,” said Jane.

“Yeah,” she agreed tentatively, “but what is life going to be like, you know? Are we going to be awkward strangers sharing an apartment but never speaking? And what if he goes postal again? And oh god is he going to be going out to _assassinate_ people on the weekends?”

Jane raised an eyebrow at her. “Well he is sort of an Avenger now,” she mused.

Darcy let out a heavy sigh.

“This is really weird,” she said finally.

“Yep,” said Jane, which was pretty comforting, because Jane was intimately familiar with this sort of weird factor.

They sat in silence for a moment, but were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Darcy looked over at Jane in surprise. “Jane, did you tell any of the super people I was here?”

“No,” said Jane comfortingly, “of course, they are sort of all super spies and stuff, so they usually figure that kind of thing out.”

Darcy covered her head with a pillow as Jane got up to answer the door.

“Hey Steve,” Darcy heard from the other room. “Come on in.”

Unless she was mistaken, that was Jane letting Steve Rogers, aka Captain America and BFF to her soon to be fake but totally real husband, into her apartment.

“Darce,” Jane stuck her head into the room, “It’s just Steve. I swear, he’s really nice. Come say hi.”

“Traitor,” Darcy muttered at her, but she pulled herself to her feel, straightened her dress, and headed into Jane’s living room, the tequila heating up her blood making it a little bit easier that it probably otherwise would have been.

“Ms. Lewis,” an incredibly tall blond with clear blue eyes and a sheepish smile greeted her, hand outstretched. “Steve Rogers, it’s so nice to meet you.”

She took his hand tentatively. “Darcy,” she said giving his hand a shake and feeling very very surreal. And, because reality didn’t quite seem to be sticking to this situation. “So I guess I’m getting married to your best friend.”

Steve Rogers raised an eyebrow at her and then let out a laugh that was more charming than anyone had any right to be.

“I guess so,” he said with a grin. “I know Bucky…James,” he clarified at her questioning expression, “can be a bit…”

“Terrifying?” Darcy supplied as he paused.

Steve grimaced, “I was going to go for slow to warm up,” he said. “With everything that has happened, he can be really hard on himself. He was…not happy with how your meeting went today.”

“So he sent you to apologise for him?” Darcy said incredulously.

“No!” said Steve at once, “Not at all! He’s going to _kill_ me when he finds out I…I’m going about this all wrong.”

Darcy had to grin as Steve ran a hand through his hair and flopped down onto Jane’s couch. She cautiously took a seat across from him.

Jane had conveniently made herself scarce.

“Look,” said Darcy with far more calm than she felt, “It’s not like I have any idea how to go about this whole thing either. I mean, this isn’t really my world. I’m currently really trying not to think too hard about the fact that Captain America is probably going to be best man at my sham wedding.”

Steve grinned at her, “I hope you make Phil throw you a really extravagant reception.”

“Oh, I’m planning on it,” said Darcy with some enthusiasm. If she didn’t stop to think about the fact that this was _Captain America_ , Steve Rogers actually seemed like a pretty nice guy.

“Look,” he said, “All I wanted to do was ask you to cut Bucky a bit of slack. I know he can come across as harsh, but I promise you that he wants to keep you safe and he’s really grateful that you’re agreeing to help him out.” And he looked so sincere and hopeful that Darcy melted a little on the inside.

I mean, if _this_ guy thought Barnes was alright, there must be something too it, right?

“I can do that,” she said with a grin.

“And…uh,” Steve looked awkward and a slight flush was rising to his cheeks, “maybe…if you want to talk about this with Dr. Foster…maybe outside the tower would be better? His hearing is better than you’d think.”

Darcy’s jaw dropped and she could feel her cheeks flooding with color. “Did he…was he listening to…”

“We were walking through the common area,” said Steve sheepishly, “we didn’t catch much. He just…I think he heard what you said about being…being a bit frightened of him.”

“Well,” said Darcy darkly, “this is all off to a _great_ start.”

Steve smiled at her kindly. “He’ll get over it. He always did take it too hard when a pretty girl wasn’t ready to fall into his arms on first meeting.”

Darcy flushed, “Did he…did he say anything about me?” she asked in spite of herself.

“A few things,” said Steve with a bit of a twinkle in his eye, “you should ask him next time you see him.”

Darcy let out a sigh, “which I suppose will be in a bunch of very boring tactical briefings about our fake wedding starting tomorrow.”

“Probably,” said Steve, standing up with a grin. “It was very nice to meet you Darcy,” he said.

“You too,” she said, and she genuinely meant it. “Tell your friend to try cracking a smile once in a while will you?” she asked as he headed for the door. “It’d probably help with the whole stone faced super soldier thing he has going on right now.”

“I’ll tell him,” said Steve, as he showed himself out of the apartment.

“So,” said Jane questioningly as she walked back into the room.

“So that’s Captain America, hey?” said Darcy.

“Just Steve around here,” said Jane, taking Steve’s former spot on the couch.

“He’s…he’s kinda cool,” said Darcy, “how come I can’t marry him?”

“Because he doesn’t need your help like Barnes does,” said Jane with suspicious speed, “And Coulson was worried that it’d put more of a target on you rather than making you any safer.”

“Oh my god, you guys actually _talked_ about it?” Darcy screeched.

“Sure,” said Jane with a grin, “Steve took one look at that photo Thor keeps of you and agreed to it on the spot, if everyone else thought it was the best plan.”

As incredibly flattering as that was, she silently agreed with Coulson that fake married to Captain America was way closer to the spotlight than she wanted to be.

“What about Barnes?” she asked, “why did he agree?”

“I wasn’t there,” said Jane, “but Thor says that Steve just told him that you needed his help and he agreed. Apparently it was very noble. Thor didn’t even _show_ him the photo.”

“Huh,” said Darcy considering. “So he agreed without knowing anything about me?”

“Yeah,” said Jane, “I think he did. Which suggests maybe he’s not as terrifying and stone cold as he comes across right?”

“Maybe,” said Darcy absently as she looked out of the window. She wondered how it was possible that her life had become so complicated in such a short span of time.

+

+

She was expected in Coulson’s office at 10:00am the next morning. Apparently SHIELD had faked up some sort of conference for her so she could spend the next week with them rather than at her job at city hall.

She spent a bit of extra time picking out something professional but flattering and fussing with her hair for reasons she chose not to contemplate.

It was 9:59 precisely as she turned into the hallway that led to Coulson’s office, and directly into the back of Sergeant Barnes.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, back pedalling abruptly, “Sorry. I…” 

He turned and reached out a hand to her elbow to steady her. She felt the cold metal of it against her skin and flinched.

Her heart immediately sank at the way the corners of his eyes tightened and he dropped his hand abruptly.

“No, I…” she tried to explain. And then gave up with a sigh. “This is weird,” she finally said.

He looked at her for a moment, and then his lips turned up ever so slightly, drawing lines at the corner of his eyes as he ducked his head as if to hide it.

“Yes,” he agreed, the low rumble of his voice warmer than she would have expected, the hint of a smile on his face making him appear almost boyish. She wondered if Steve had told him to do it.

“So, can we just agree that it’s a weird situation, but it’s probably going to be easier if we try to get to know each other a bit?” she asked tentatively.

“Alright,” he agreed evenly, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“You know,” said Darcy after a pause, decided that pussyfooting around wasn’t going to help either of them, “it would help if you said more than one word at a time.”

An honest to goodness grin crossed his face, changing his appearance in a way that made Darcy’s heart almost skip a beat.

“Sure,” he said.

Darcy raised an incredulous eyebrow at him. “You know that Coulson likes me right? And that if I decide you should be wearing powder blue at our sham wedding it will happen?”

He looked at her appraisingly. “You’re a little bit ruthless, aren’t you?” he said in a tone that suggested he was not at all displeased by this.

“You have no idea Barnes,” she said with a tentative grin. “Well, I guess we should get to this really weird meeting right?” She added after a pause.

He stepped to one side, motioning for her to lead the way.

She wondered if it was a conscious thing, the way he kept her on his left hand side, keeping his firing arm free as the walked down the hall. It didn’t really allay any of her nerves about his job and his past, but it did make her realise that the whole protection thing was no joke. He walked beside her like he was waiting for an attack.

It was a heavy thought that weighed her down through what would otherwise have been a fairly humorous meeting. Watching SHIELD analysts try and speak technically about how it was important that their relationship looked real was pretty entertaining.

“Look,” said Darcy finally, after loosing track of where they were in time tables and “operations” that sounded a hell of a lot like dates, “This is not going to work if you lot are trying to plan out every step, because that’s not how the whole dating thing works.”

The three analysts sitting with Coulson at the table blinked owlishly at her. She stifled a grin as she wondered whether they actually had any real experience with dating. She thought, by the slight creases at the corner of Barnes’ eyes, he might be thinking the same thing.

“Here’s what I suggest,” she barrelled forward, “we can’t have been dating for more than about four or five months, otherwise I would have already told my parents. So first, I’ll call them up and tell them about Barnes, then we’ll make sure to be seen together in public once a week or so, and in a couple of months we can elope. We don’t need you to plan out all the details, we’re adults. We can figure it out. Right Barnes?”

She looked at him, trying to project more confidence than she felt.

He nodded solidly, looking at her steadily.

“You will need to pay for the elopement though,” she added as an afterthought, “I’m not having my parents pay for a sham wedding.”

There was a moment of silence. “This is acceptable,” said Coulson with an edge of amusement in his voice. “Just touch base with me and the analysts about public events where we can increase your profile while maintaining security, alright?”

“She won’t go anywhere where I can’t keep her safe,” said Barnes suddenly, an edge of fierce indignation in his voice.

“Of course,” said Coulson evenly, although she thought she saw one of his eyebrows twitch up, “I’m just asking you to keep us in the loop.”

Barnes nodded stiffly, and then spoke again. “Are we done?” he asked sharply.

Coulson nodded.

Barnes stood up abruptly, looking over at Darcy with a questioning sort of look. She stood up, feeling a little bit bewildered, but followed him out of the office and down the hall.

“Barnes,” she said finally after half running to catch up with him, “what’s going on?”

He slowed immediately, “Sorry,” he said tightly. “I just want to get out of the building. Everything here is monitored. Will you come with me?”

“Sure,” she said cautiously.

Apparently that was enough to satisfy him, because he kept striding onwards until they made it outside and onwards a ways until he stopped beside a bench that sat on the edge of a little urban park.

“So,” Darcy said, “you want to explain?”

He let out a tight breath and sat down on the bench, leaving plenty of room for her to sit beside him without any physical contact.

“You don’t need to do this, you know.” He said finally.

“Uhhhh, what?” was all Darcy managed.

“I can keep you safe even if we don’t…you don’t need to go through with this,” he was looking firmly down at his feet.

“But what about you? Isn’t this going to solve a bunch of banking issue for you or something?” Darcy wasn’t quite sure what was going on here.

Barnes let out a derisive laugh. “I think Steve and Coulson are more concerned about cleaning up my image,” he said, “but none of that really matters. This is about keeping you safe. Being…being connected to me might make some of the threats go away, but probably not all of them. So the most important thing is having someone around to make sure you’re safe. I can do that without any of the rest of this.”

There was a lot to unpack in that little monologue, and Darcy was having a hard time working through it.

“What…what brought this on? Why are you so against it all of a sudden?” she winced as she heard the somewhat plaintive tone in her voice.

“I’m not against it,” he said firmly, “well, not…I mean…I just didn’t think about…about your parents. I don’t want you to have to lie to them.”

“Oh,” said Darcy, oddly touched, “it’s okay,” she said “I’m pretty sure they’ll forgive me since it is about keeping me safe. And its not forever.”

He seemed somewhat mollified and his electric edge was seeping away.

“What did you mean about the threats?” Darcy asked after a moment.

Like a switch flipping, he was tense and buzzing again, although he was stone still beside her.

“They didn’t tell you?” he asked tightly.

“Tell me what?” said Darcy, a growing feeling of unease creeping over her.

He stood up abruptly, his hands clenching and unclenching.

“This isn’t about some abstract concern for your safety,” he said finally, “SHIELD is aware of at least four separate groups who are looking for you.”

Darcy was silent for a long moment as what he was saying sunk in.

“Are you okay?” he said finally, standing in front of her looking down with concern.

“Not really,” she said tightly.

“I can understand why you’re afraid,” he said, “but I promise you I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Afraid?” she said, confused, “Barnes, I am _monumentally pissed_. How could Coulson not tell me this? Does he really think I’d be dumb enough to turn down the personal protection of the Winter Soldier if I had known? He could have saved himself _hours_ of talking me into this. I’m going to _kill_ him!”

Barnes looked amused.

“Well if it helps,” he said, “he gave me an expense card that we could misuse.”

“Where’s the nearest _very_ expensive cocktail bar Barnes. I think we could both use a drink.”

They walked in mostly companionable silence until they were ensconced in a cozy booth with pricey drinks on the way.

“So,” said Barnes finally, “it took Coulson hours to talk you into this hey?”

Darcy felt her cheeks flush slightly. “Well it’s a pretty odd situation,” she said, “wouldn’t it be weirder if I was really into throwing myself into a sham marriage with a guy who I only know from news footage?”

She immediately regretted it as his face shut down into a frozen mask.

“That’s not who I am,” he said tightly.

She was prevented from making an immediate reply as their drinks arrive. She took a healthy sip from hers before she spoke.

“I have no idea who you are, really,” she finally said, deciding honestly was probably the better course forward. “Your past and what you do now are things I don’t understand. I’m just a civilian who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got pulled into all of this. But,” she managed a tentative smile, “I get that all of that isn’t who you are. And anyone who’s willing to rip off Coulson to make me feel better is probably alright.”

He looked at her evenly for a long moment.

“You’re wrong, you know.” He said finally.

“About what?”

“You’re not just a civilian.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Thor talks about you,” he said in answer, and she supposed it was answer enough.

“Thor spins everything into an epic tale,” she tried to deflect.

He tilted his head to the side, looking at her in a way that made her feel transparent.

“How’s your drink,” he said finally, changing the subject.

“Very expensive,” she said with a grin.

All in all, it was more fun than she thought it would have been. It wasn’t as if Barnes was particularly chatty, but he seemed content to listen to her tell stories about how Jane and Thor met, and what it was like working in municipal government.

And he walked her right to the door of her tiny little walk up in Chelsea, although he frowned at the building like it personally offended him.

“We should move you into the tower as soon as it makes sense,” he said, as he watched her undo the single lock on the door to the stairwell.

She blinked at him in surprise. “You want me to move in with you?”

She hadn’t really turned her mind to that side of things yet. All of a sudden the weirdness of the situation came crashing down on her again. Surely they would _have_ to share space, at least after the charade of a wedding, if not before. And people were going to expect them to be close in public. And all of a sudden she was thinking about what kissing him would be like.

She could feel her cheeks heating up.

He looked like he was containing a grin. “If you like,” he said evenly. “Or we can get Stark to sort something out so you have your own space.”

“I don’t know…I mean, I hadn’t really thought about…” she let out a sigh. “This is weird again.”

He smiled at her, and she wondered how she could have thought he was so cold only a day ago. “We’ll talk about it another time,” he said.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, reaching into her pocket, “I don’t even have your number.” She pulled out her phone and passed it to him.

“Right,” he said, taking it from her. After a moment he handed it back. “Everything that’s in writing can be read,” he said warningly, “so don’t text me about how weird this is,” he said with an amused expression.

It was annoying, how composed he was about all of this.

“Right,” she agreed, “I should probably start compiling a nice backlog of sexts for the record.”

She felt more pleased than she should have when a hint of color crept up his neck. “That’s not…I mean…I wouldn’t…is that what people _do_ now?” he finally blurted out, looking scandalised.

She laughed out loud. “I suppose you’ll find out Barnes.” She said with a wink, “See you soon!” she closed the door behind her before he could get another word in.

It only hit her when she had reached her apartment and closed the door behind her that that had been _awfully_ flirty. She was flirting with the stone cold assassin she was about to fake marry for her own protection.

She groaned and banged her head against the wall once or twice.

She pulled out her phone and called Jane.

“Oh no,” she said without preamble when Jane picked up.

“I heard you left the meeting with Barnes. Did things go that poorly?” Came Jane’s response.

“I accidentally flirted with him,” she said, and then added, “He’s really hot.”

“Oh no,” echoed Jane.

“I know!!!”

She flopped down on her couch with a huff. This was so inconvenient.


	2. Part Two

At about 5:00 the next day, after fielding phone calls from Coulson and the analysts about how the call to her parents went (“fine, good, they’re excited to meet him”), her availability for Avengers related publicity events (“Coulson, I do _not_ have the kind of social life that schedules weeks in advance”) and what her collection of formal wear was like (“non existent, but my fake boyfriend has an expense card, apparently”), she received a text from Barnes.

_Steve’s forcing the team to get together tonight. Would you like to join us?_

She thought about this for a long moment.

_Is this a public event? Should I be prepared for paparazzi?_

_No. Just the team._

For a moment, she felt a thrill in her gut. Did this mean he just wanted to spend time with her? And if so, what did _that_ mean.

_There’s usually one or two watching the door, but that is about it._

Oh. Right. Sham. He probably wanted to make sure she got seen coming in and out of the tower fairly regularly.

Nevertheless, she put on her good jeans and a flattering top and made her way over to Stark Tower.

Jane was there, thankfully. But so were a very intimidating crowd of people. And, apparently, not Barnes.

Steve jumped up when she arrived. “Ms. Lewis,” he said brightly, “glad you could join us.”

“It’s Darcy,” she corrected him with a grin.

“Darcy,” he nodded, “this is Clint, Natasha, Maria, Tony and Sam. And of course you know…”

“Darcy Lewis!” Thor’s voice boomed as he walked into the room for the kitchen, striding over to her and sweeping her up into a hug. She let herself be comforted in the strangeness of the situation by Thor’s familiar warmth for a moment.

“Hey big guy,” she said when he let her go. And then she looked over to the assembled group that Steve had just introduced.

Darcy felt she had a fair amount of moxie in general, but it was just a really intimidating crowd. And then she saw Barnes walk out of the hallway and stop at the entrance to the room, raising a challenging eyebrow at her.

She found she got the message clear enough. She had said she wanted to figure this out as they went and not have the analysts plan everything, so here she was, and she was going to have to figure it out.

“Hey,” she said, raising her hand in greeting, “I’m Barnes’s fake girlfriend, nice to meet you all.”

The man Steve had introduced as Sam let out a bright laugh. “Our condolences Darcy,” he said with a grin.

“Hey,” came Barnes’s gruff voice as he pushed off the wall and made his way toward her, “I heard that.”

“Would have been wasted if you hadn’t,” chimed Sam in a chipper tone.

“Glad to have you Darcy,” said Maria with a roll of her eyes, “we could use a little less testosterone in this room.”

It seemed as though at least some of them were clearly willing to welcome her into the group. Clint and Natasha, however, were looking at her with some reservation.

Tony Stark wasn’t looking at her at all, he was absorbed in his phone.

All of a sudden, he looked up and caught sight of her. “Who’s the pin up?” he asked, giving her a very obvious once over.

“Watch it Stark,” Barnes’s low growl rumbled startlingly close to her ear.

“Ahhh right, Foster’s intern. At least she’s nice to look at, right Barnesy?” Stark was obviously egging him on and, by the vibrating tension to her left, it was working.

Without thinking about it, she laid a hand on Barnes’s forearm to forestall his response.

“Tony Stark, right?” she asked brightly, “You know, I thought you’d be taller.”

The highly amused expression she caught on Clint’s face and the poorly stifled laugh that came from Steve told her that she’d gotten it just about right.

“Lewis,” Natasha’s voice came whip sharp from where she sat on the couch.

Darcy looked over at her sharply in surprise.

“We’re drinking.” She said abruptly, rolling to her feet in a fluid motion and ignoring the warning look Barnes was shooting her.

“To what?” asked Darcy helplessly.

“To your forthcoming marriage, of course,” she said, with a certain amount of glee.

Darcy looked over at Barnes, who was looking at Natasha with an odd expression.

She sighed, “Of course we are.”

Drinking with Natasha, it turned out, meant very very nice Russian vodka consumed exclusively in the form of shots.

It took three rounds under Natasha’s cold and appraising stare before Darcy had had enough.

“You’re testing me,” she said, enunciating clearly around the fuzzy feeling that was starting to sift through her head, “why?”

She could see Barnes watching carefully and no doubt listening closely from where he stood across the room next to Steve.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at her, but answered plainly. “I want to know why he should put himself in danger for you.” She said evenly.

“I didn’t ask him to,” she said quickly.

“That doesn’t alter the situation,” said Natasha.

Darcy paused for a moment, thinking about this. “You’re right.” She said finally, “and I don’t know why it was decided that I was worth protecting like this. I don’t know much about him. But I do know that I would be stupid to turn down his help.”

Natasha looked at her with a level stare for a long moment. And then she nodded. “You’ll do fine.” She said finally.

“What?” said Darcy, bewildered as Natasha poured her another shot. “What will I do fine at?”

“Never mind,” Natasha said with a feline grin, “now let me tell you all of his secrets.”

+

+

“Darcy,” Natasha’s voice was far too bright and cheerful for 7am, especially after that same voice had kept her up drinking vodka far too late the evening before. She hadn’t even seen much of Barnes, except she was pretty sure she fell asleep against his shoulder in a cab as he took her home.

“Whaaaa…” Darcy grumbled sleepily.

“James is taking you out tonight. There’s a gala at the Met that Stark is funding. We’re going shopping. A car will be there in 15 minutes.”

“Huh?” She pulled herself into a sitting position.

“I’ll have coffee,” Darcy thought she caught a hint of humour in Natasha’s tone.

“Okay, okay, I’m up.” Darcy looked at the phone in bewilderment as it clicked off as soon as she was done speaking.

She just managed to tame her hair into a respectable style and pull on jeans, boots and a sweater when a town car pulled up in front of her building and honked.

She didn’t even question how Natasha knew exactly how she liked her coffee as she handed her a very large cup.

“So…?” Darcy started questioningly.

“The car is safe,” said Natasha immediately, “but once we step out of the car, you’ve been in love with Barnes for months, got it?”

“Right,” said Darcy carefully, “and why is it that you’re taking me shopping again?”

“The press knows that Barnes and I have a past, and we’re seen together fairly often at public events. If you were really dating him, I’d have known you for just as long. It will do both of you good for the press to see us together.”

“Oh,” said Darcy, getting it at once, “so they get that you’re not with him and you approve.” She paused, swallowing heavily. “You’re not…with him, are you?”

In a very surprising move, Natasha reached out and laid a hand on her arm. “Not anymore, _golubushka_ , and never again.”

Darcy just blinked at her for a moment, trying to process what had just happen.

“Now come on,” grinned Natasha as they pulled onto Fifth Avenue, “Coulson’s expense card is just dying for a workout.”

+

+

Shopping with the Black Widow was just as terrifying as Darcy had thought it would be. Natasha, she was still convinced, was the most terrifying person in the world. But this time it was directed at salespeople who jumped to carry out her slightest wish. It was, she thought, kind of nice to just be observing the terror.

And boy was it effective.

Darcy was pretty sure she tried on every gown in New York and 80% of the shoes in the space of a few hours.

She had to admit, though, that it yielded good results. She never would have pulled the dress that she ended up with off the rack, and not just because it cost twice her monthly rent either. It was…slinky. That was the first word that came to mind. And somehow with all the intricate seaming and subtle beading in the midnight blue fabric, it had enough structure for her generous assets while still giving the image of hanging cleanly to the floor. The slit which stopped just shy of indecent probably helped.

They left the dress and the shoes and the accessories with the SHIELD driver and went onwards on foot. When Darcy asked where they were going, all Natasha would tell her is that they weren’t done yet. All of a sudden, she cut her eyes to the left, linked her arm through Darcy’s, muttered “perfect” and steered her across the street.

“Natasha! Widow!” as they crossed in front of an upscale restaurant, several photographers waiting on the curb outside caught sight of her and leapt into action.

Natasha pulled Darcy to a stop with an exasperated look on her face that was convincing even though Darcy knew perfectly well that she had orchestrated this intentionally.

“I’ve got five minutes,” she said tersely, “and then we’ve got somewhere to be.”

Darcy didn’t think that other celebrities could give orders like that to the paparazzi and expect them to obey, but other celebrities probably couldn’t kill you with a paper clip.

“Were you involved in the recent debacle in Kenya?” one asked, snapping a photo.

“Any truth to the rumour that you’re seeing Steve Rogers?” asked another.

“Who’s your friend?” asked a third, and this one Natasha turned to.

“I could tell you,” said Natasha with a mischievous grin, “but the Winter Soldier would probably kill you.”

Darcy immediately understood the point of this little charade. She knew full well that the whole point of this was to have her name linked with Barnes, and that this was about generating interest and publicity.

“Nat, you’re scaring them,” she said with what she hoped was a convincing grin. It was true too, the reporters were now looking at her in something like terror, even though their cameras were still flashing. “He’s a huge softie underneath all the weapons,” she said.

“Only to you Darcy,” said Natasha, obviously dropping her first name so that any enterprising reporter could dig through the SHIELD leak and find out who she was before the evening’s event.

Some of the reporters seemed to be coming out of their shock. “Darcy, how long have you been romantically linked with the Winter Soldier!” “How did you meet him?” “Are you a member of the Avengers?”

But Natasha waived them away. “Your five minutes are up,” she said cheerfully, pulling Darcy down the sidewalk. Darcy was utterly unsurprised to see that the reporters obeyed and hung back, but when she looked over her shoulder, they were still snapping photos.

“That was…crazy…” she said as Natasha led her onwards.

“It gets easier,” said Natasha, not unkindly, “and I wouldn’t be shy about using James as a threat.” She grinned. “He’d be very happy to have an excuse to terrify some paparazzi on your behalf.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Their next stop was a salon so exclusive that it didn’t have a sign on the door. Natasha chatted easily as they both sat getting their hair styled and make up done. She learned some very interesting information about her current fake boyfriend, soon to be fake husband.

For instance, apparently he absolutely _hated_ tomatoes but for some reason still loved to slather hot dogs with ketchup.

It was clear that the casual chatter was meant to start providing Darcy with the information she should know if she had really been dating the man for a few months, but she was fascinated none the less. It made him much more human.

By the time they got back in the car, Darcy was barely going to have time to run up into her apartment and change before Barnes showed up to pick her up. As the car pulled up in front of Darcy’s apartment, she gathered her things and turned to Natasha.

“This was…I mean, thank you for this. I know you didn’t exactly sign up to help me the way Barnes did but…”

Natasha made an expressive Russian noise that sounded like embarrassment and dismissal all wrapped into one.

“I like you, you idiot,” she said with a fond expression, “I wouldn’t be helping if I didn’t. And” she paused with a rather mysterious grin, “Barnes likes you just fine too, you know. He knew who you were before he volunteered.”

And with that rather startling revelation, Natasha pushed her out of the car to go get dressed with a warning that Barnes was right behind them.

She hurriedly changed out of her jeans and sweater and into the new dress, carefully patted her curled and styled hair, and applied a sparing amount of the only expensive perfume she owned.

All the while, her mind was racing. While Thor may not have shown Barnes her picture, apparently he knew who she was anyways. How? And why? And what did that mean about why he had agreed to this whole sham?

Her gut gave an alarming little lurch as her buzzer sounded.

“Just a sec,” she said hurriedly, looking around for the small clutch that was somewhere in her shopping bags and beginning to transfer items into it from her purse, “I’ll be right down.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Barnes’s scratchy voice through the dated intercom, “Buzz me in.”

After a moment, she shook off the sudden feeling of nerves that was threatening to overtake her and pressed the button to unlock the front door.

By the time she heard his knock, the shopping bags were hastily shoved under the couch and her apartment looked at least vaguely presentable.

She opened the door and was suddenly very glad she had not yet slipped into the slightly wobbly and very high heels that went with the dress.

James Barnes with combed hair, a clean shave, and an impeccably cut tuxedo was enough to make anyone’s knees a bit weak, really.

“Hi,” she said, cursing herself for how breathy her voice sounded.

“Hi,” he said back, sounding a bit shell shocked himself, “you look…you look good.” He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Darcy distractedly, realising that they were both just _standing_ there. “I just need my shoes,” she fluttered around a little clumsily until she had lined her heels up in front of hear and was about to step into them when she jumped in shock as Barnes’ arm came around her waist to steady her.

She looked up at him in surprise, but he just looked back at her evenly and said “Wouldn’t want you to break an ankle before we get there.”

She rolled her eyes at him and grinned a little too wide, glad for the break in the odd tension between them.

“Ahhh,” he stepped back from her once she was steady on her feet, and rand his hand over the back of his neck, “there are a few things we should probably talk about before we go, though.”

“Oh?” said Darcy absently, pulling a wrap off her coat rack.

“Well, if you’re gonna jump like that every time I put a hand on you the whole relationship thing might be a little hard to sell,” he said with an unreadable expression.

Darcy took a deep breath. This had come up in the car with Natasha as well, and she knew it was a conversation they needed to have, but did they really have to have it when he was looking like _that_. Come to think of it, did they really need to have it was he was _looking at her_ like that.

She sighed. “Right. Another really weird conversation,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

Barnes just shrugged. “It’s up to you how you want to play it,” he said, “you know best how you would behave with someone you’ve been with for months.”

Darcy snorted with an ill timed laugh, remembering some of the untoward things that had happened in semi-public places with long term boyfriends in the past.

Barnes raised an eyebrow at her.

“Sorry,” she said, perching carefully on the corner of the couch, “I don’t think that my typical behaviour is really going to be an appropriate guideline for public functions. Let’s just assume we’re taking things relatively slow, because of your whole…thing…” she finished uncomfortably, realising that it probably wasn’t all that polite to bring up the whole brainwashed former assassin thing.

Barnes, however, looked unreasonably amused by this.

“Fine,” he agreed easily, “it’s a formal event anyways so no one expects us to be necking in a corner.”

Darcy valiantly tried to avoid picturing it.

“Right,” she said, fighting a rising blush. “So I will promise not to jump if you put an arm around me, and I think I can handle some mild hand holding.”

“We’ll save the extreme hand holding for later,” Barnes drawled at her, and Darcy felt he was enjoying her discomfort far too much.

She threw her hands up in exasperation. “You could be a little more helpful Barnes,” she said peevishly, “you are my very first pretend boyfriend you know.”

He sobered a little. “You’re right, I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I shouldn’t expect you to…” He took a few steps towards her and pulled her up by her hand. “I’ve done this before,” he said, not meeting her eyes, “pretended, I mean. And there are a few easy tricks to keep in mind.”

“Okay,” she said, trying to ignore the crisp, clean scent of him standing so close to her.

“When I touch you,” he said, carefully putting a hand on her hip, “lean into it, not away.”

She shifted her weight towards his hand, feeling the firm press of his fingers. She looked up at him in question.

“Yes,” he answered stiffly, “like that.”

“Find something to call me, something intimate.” He paused for a moment, “so probably not Barnes.”

“It’s a little impersonal,” Darcy agreed, acutely conscious of the fact that his hand was still at her hip. “Bucky?” she tried, liking the way the name suited him, or maybe just the way he responded to it, the lightness in his eyes.

“Bucky is fine,” he said evenly.

“What else?” she asked.

“Find reasons to touch me,” he said with admirable evenness, “touch my arm to get my attention, straighten my collar, anything like that.”

“I can do that,” she said, tentatively reaching out to straighten his bow tie.

“Okay,” he said, taking a step back and dropping his hand. “There’s one more thing,” he said finally, his shoulders stiffening as his eyes dropped to the floor.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“When we walk out that door, we have no idea who is watching or listening. When we walk out that door, every moment, we are in love. It can be…stressful, to pretend like that.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking anywhere but at her.

“It’s important that you remember that it’s not real. And that whenever we are somewhere safe, I will never touch you without your express permission. Even when we are out in the world, if you tell me to stop, I always will. And if at any point it becomes too much, we can always leave, go somewhere safe where we don’t need to pretend, okay?” It came out in a bit of a rush, like he had prepared to say it and was rushing his lines.

“Okay,” she says a little blankly, the words _remember that it’s not real_ sticking in her mind, even though she knew perfectly well that he meant that little speech to make her feel safe.

“I do have one request,” she said, surprising herself a little, “before we go.”

“Yes?” he asked carefully.

“I don’t have your crazy training. That means I am willing to leave a lot to your discretion, what is needed to keep up the cover and all that. It also means I am really severely not smooth.” She was babbling a little bit, and she knew it.

She also could have sworn he was hiding a smile.

“So if we, for whatever reason, need to kiss,” she paused, she couldn’t believe she was asking this, “I promise you that I will be really awkward about it the first time so could we, like, get it over with?”

She couldn’t read his expression as he considered her request. She felt like immediately taking it back, but she bit her lip and waited. Finally, though, he nodded tensely.

“It’s a good idea,” he said. “You shouldn’t…if there’s anything else I can do to help you feel more comfortable, don’t be afraid to ask it, okay?”

“Alright,” she said with a little smile, and then, to try to break free of this very strange moment they were having, “Now come on, lay one on me soldier.”

He completely failed to hide his grin at that, gave her an ironic little salute, and then stepped back into her.

His left hand, cool and heavy, found her hip while his right carefully cupped her cheek. He moved slowly, steadily so it wasn’t a surprise when his lips brushed hers.

It was a bit of a surprise, though, the way her eyelashes fluttered closed as the brush of his lips turned into firmer pressure, and the way a thrill went springing up her spine as the fingers of his left hand twitched ever so slightly against her.

She found herself gripping his shoulder with her right hand, her left pressing against the strong line of his back under his suit. His right hand curled gently across her cheek and wound into her hair as he carefully coaxed her lips open and captured her lower lip between his before pulling away as carefully as he had begun.

“Alright?” he asked, scrutinising her carefully.

“Uhhh…” she murmured dumbly, before dropping her arms, her cheeks turning crimson, she was sure. “Yeah. Yes. Fine.”

He stepped back and turned his head to the side, but she could see the amusement in his eyes. “Are you _laughing_ at me Barnes?” she said incredulously.

“Never,” he said, and she could see that although he was likely amused at her awkward reaction, she _had_ warned him, and the expression in his eyes was fond. “And its Bucky,” he pointedly prompted, offering her an arm.  “You ready?”

She took a deep breath. “Yeah,” she said with as much bravado as she could manage. “Let’s go make a splash.”


	3. Part Three

It was far easier than she thought it was going to be. Walking down a red carpet where reporters (who had, according to Natasha’s plan, clearly found out who she was) were shouting her name and taking her picture was…weird.

But when one of them asked in _incredibly_ personal question about how well acquainted Darcy was with the Winter Soldier’s metal arm, and said Winter Solider promptly walked up to the man, rolled up his sleeve to expose said arm, and used it to crush the man’s camera, she started to feel significantly more secure.

When he walked back to her after that incident, it was easy to lean up and kiss the corner of his mouth. He grinned down at her, unrepentant about the property damage on her behalf, and pulled her close to his side with an arm around her waist until they got inside the party.

Natasha swept up to them, looking flawless in green silk, with a long suffering expression on her face.

“Really?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Did you hear what he said to Darcy?” Barnes asked with a dangerous edge to his voice.

Natasha looked at Darcy questioningly. “Oh it was well deserved,” said Darcy, taking the opportunity to gaze up at Barnes with an adoring expression that wasn’t really to hard to generate as she could see a number of curious eyes on them.

Natasha looked at her carefully. “So long as you’ve got him under control, I suppose,” she said with a grin. “Now go fetch us some drinks James,” she said as she linked her arm with Darcy’s and pulled her towards a table where a number of very recognisable faces were sitting.

“Hey Darce!” said Steve brightly, gesturing to the chair next to him which she took with gratitude as Natasha left a space for Barnes on her other side.

“Hey Steve,” she said, leaning over to give him a friendly peck on the cheek. “Lookin’ sharp.” Which was a gross understatement.

She was going to have to learn to deal with superheroes in formal wear, apparently.

“And I hope that that idiot you hang around with told you how beautiful you look in that dress,” said Steve, raising his voice so Barnes, who Darcy could see returning with drinks, could hear him.

Darcy had been in a number of long term relationships before, and she knew how she would have responded had it been any of them, so she decided that that was going to be her best barometer.

“You know what Rogers,” she said, with a mischievous look as she accepted a drink from Barnes, “I believe his exact words were ‘you look good’.”

Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, aka apparently her friend now, snorted and half choked on his drink. “Oh Barnes,” he said shaking his head slowly, “you idiot.”

“Hey,” Barnes said defensively, swinging an arm to rest across the back of Darcy’s chair, “It’s difficult to find words when Darce is looking like this.”

She felt herself blushing slightly as she reached up to pat his hand where it sat behind her, “and what’s your excuse the rest of the time?” she asked innocently.

Tony Stark, who had just sat down with _the_ Pepper Potts at their table grinned. “Barnes, have I told you before how much more I like her than you?”

Barnes just rolled his eyes at Tony. He looked comfortable with these people. It was a good look on him. “Awww come on doll,” he said, leaning in towards her, “you know you make me speechless no matter what you’re wearing.”

She felt a bit flustered by this, and didn’t know how to respond but Steve, who she was liking more and more, saw it and jumped in to save her.

“Come on Lewis,” he said, standing up and offering her a hand, “I’m stealing you for a dance.”

She gratefully took his hand and allowed him to lead her out onto the dance floor.

“How’re you doing?” he asked quietly as they began a passable turn around the floor.

“Oh you know…” she said carefully, “these sorts of events are always…a bit overwhelming.”

He smiled at her sympathetically, “I was always told it helped to imagine that everyone who is staring at you showed up in nothing but their drawers.”

She snorted out a short burst of very unladylike laughter. “You’re alright Rogers,” she said with a grin.

“Same to you,” he said, as he clumsily attempted to spin her.

“Alright, alright,” Bucky came up behind them, “Give me my girl back Rogers before you break her.”

Once Steve had stepped aside and passed her off to Barnes with a grin and a salute, Barnes pulled her in tightly to him and began easily moving them around the floor, seemingly without effort.

“You can dance,” said Darcy in surprise before she could stop herself, and then, “how come we’ve never been dancing before? You said you hated it.” She thought it was a reasonable recovery.

Barnes apparently thought so too, because the momentary tension in his eyes relaxed. “I hate dancing at places like _this_ ,” he said, expertly spinning her under his arms, “I’ll take you out where we can _really_ go dancing if you like.”

“Yeah,” she said, as she spun back into him and he let her fall against his chest, her head turned to the side as they started moving more slowly, “That’d be fun.”

She was already starting to understand why Barnes had said what he said earlier. It was nice, oddly uncomplicated, to have someone who was pretending to be your perfect partner. It would be so easy, really, to start believing it.

At that moment, she noticed that someone who looks like they are probably in politics, or (as she noticed a number of medals pinned on his jacket) at least so deep into the military brass that its about the same thing, was determinedly striding towards them.

She rose up on her tiptoes and slung her arms around his neck, pressing her lips against the soft patch of skin just below his ear.

She thought, maybe, that he shuddered a little as she whispered “incoming”, just before a throat cleared loudly behind them, but she could have been imagining it.

She did not think she was imagining the rather impressed look Barnes shot her as he stepped away from her, his hand falling to catch hers as they turned to face the intruder.

“General,” said Barnes with a nod.

“Barnes,” said the man in a too loud voice, “I thought I’d cut in and save this little lady’s toes for you.” He looked at her with a gratuitous expression, like he was doing her a huge favour.

Darcy could see Barnes’ eyes darkening. It would not help his public image if he lost his job for punching the brass in the face.

“Sorry General, I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Darcy Lewis,” she said brightly, sticking out her hand for him to shake, “Bucky’s girlfriend.” She felt his arm tighter around her waist, pulling her tight against his side.

“Girlfriend?” he asked amazed, “this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Didn’t know my social life was government business General,” said Barnes with an awfully smug expression.

“I suppose not,” said the general, looking at them both warily now.

“If you don’t mind General,” said Darcy as politely as she could manage, “you seem to keep him out in the field an awful lot, so I’d like to finish my dance if that’s okay with you?”

They spun onwards in their dance, leaving the General with a bemused expression in their wake.

The music changed and slowed, and Barnes pulled her in close to him, so her head rested on his chest and she could fell his breath in her hair.

“Nice moves,” he barely whispered in her ear, “you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“That guy seems like a real dick,” she said in response. She didn’t think it would really be an issue if anyone overheard that, but for the sake of Barnes’ reputation she kept her voice low.

She looked up at him in amusement as he let out a surprised laugh that _completely_ altered his usually composed expression.

She thought she caught the flash of a camera, but was starting to get pretty good at ignoring it by now.

All the scrutiny started to wear on her after a while, but spending time with Barnes was by far the easiest part of the night. They danced, he brought her drinks, she ate the tomatoes out of his salad, and it was easy to obey his instructions to find reasons to reach out to him, lean into him. She didn’t think they spent more than five minutes unlinked throughout the whole night.

She it felt strange, cold even, when he helped her into a car at the end of the night and left a firm distance between them, his expression become closed off and his shoulders tense the moment the door closed.

“You did good,” he said finally.

“Thanks,” she said uncomfortably. “It was…”

“Weird?” he finished with a wry grin.

It wasn’t exactly what she had been about to say. It had been fun, really. Or even nice.

She managed a weak smile and they sat in silence for a long moment.

“So,” she started valiantly, “what was with that asshole military dude?”

“General Taylor?” Barnes asked, his mouth twisted at the corner, “he’s a real dick.” He said dryly.

Darcy rolled her eyes at him, “Stop stealing my lines Barnes. What’s his deal?”

Barnes let out a stiff sigh, “He’s one of the big reasons my reputation needs cleaning up,” he said, with an almost apologetic look at her, “Doesn’t think I ever should have had my rank re-instated. Not after D.C.”

Darcy felt her breath hitch in her throat and she knew he had heard it, but he was sitting quietly, looking at her like he was waiting for a response.

Thankfully, Darcy had one that was boiling out of her like fire. “Well I think he’s a self righteous idiot who hasn’t sacrificed even a hundredth of what you have for the damned country and he can eat me.”

Is this really the sort of attitude that he faced? I mean, yeah, he was intimidating, and knowing about his past and his skills could be a bit terrifying, but she had never once, not for one second, thought that he deserved to be punished for what had been done to him.

And she thought maybe her righteous indignation was showing, because Barnes’ face got all calm and soft and he relaxed back against the seat.

“Thanks,” he said finally.

“He’s a dick,” Darcy felt like the point needed restating, because now that his mask was slipping a bit, she could see the insecurity and doubt in his eyes.

“I was worried, you know,” he said with an almost casual grin, “if you were going to be able to handle this.”

She raised an arch eyebrow at him.

“Clearly,” he went on, “I should have been more worried about whether the U.S. military was going to be able to handle you.”

Darcy wasn’t entirely unsure that this wasn’t the best compliment she had ever received in her life. It made something in her gut do a slow whirl.

Uh oh.

When the car pulled up to her place, Barnes was around to open her door in a heartbeat and walked her up the stoop.

“You can’t come up,” she said, for the benefit of anyone who might be listening and also because she really needed some distance to process all of this, “I have work in the morning.”

“One of these days you’ll agree to move in with me, and then we wont have to do this anymore,” he said, pulling her against him with a wistful expression on his face that made Darcy’s heart ache a bit, and also made her wonder whether he had missed his calling as an award winning actor.

“You have to at least survive my parents first,” she said against his chest, letting her arms fall around his waist. But it wasn’t as easy any more. She could set aside the public, pretend Bucky. But the private, sincere Barnes that had driven home with her?

“I think I can handle that,” he said, pulling away from her and looking at her steadily. There was just a hint of a question in his eyes before he leaned in pressed a careful, chaste kiss just to the side of her mouth. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

She just nodded at him, as he gave her arms a squeeze and walked back to the car.

+

+

The next morning, Coulson called her with a terse compliment for her work last night. She was confused until she pulled up the e-mail he had sent her. On the front page of the New York Times was a photo of her and Barnes, his head thrown back in a laugh, her looking up at him with a fond expression from where he held her against his chest.

The headline read: “Is the Winter Soldier Thawing?”

She immediate went out and found a copy of the paper, cut out the photo, and stuck it on her wall.

She felt it is what any good fake girlfriend would do.

+

+

It was never easy again, not after that first night. Or, perhaps to be more accurate, she never came close to forgetting again. She knew perfectly well that Bucky, who took her dancing and touched her easily, laughed freely and talked about light things, was an image, a front. Not entirely divorced from reality, but not who he would have chosen to be in public.

It was the quiet and distant Barnes who was the real man in her life.

She was lying on the unreasonably wide and comfortable couch in the common room on a Saturday morning, having slept over at Jane’s (but for all the press knew, having had some kinky Winter Solider sex. The press seemed to love to speculate about that) when a gentle rustling behind her let her know she wasn’t alone.

“You’re not very stealthy you know,” she said from behind the pages of her book, “for a spy.”

“Didn’t want to startle you,” came Barnes’ low voice from behind her. “Having fun?” he raised an eyebrow at the bright primary colors of the book she was holding.

“Harry Potter is a classic Barnes,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “lighten up a bit.”

His eyes did that thing they did when she knew she had somehow stung him with a comment but he didn’t want her to know.

“Steve’s on his way up,” Barnes went on without further comment, “he’s going to take you down to the gym so you can start working on your self defence.”

Darcy cringed. She had known this was coming. Nat had threatened her with it about a week ago.

“Isn’t this whole fake relationship thing so I can _avoid_ having to defend myself?” she groaned.

“Darcy,” said Barnes in a very serious tone, “don’t make light of this. Even seconds can make the difference between…”

“Hey,” she interrupted, the note of worry in his tone taking the fun out of complaining, “I’m just whining. I get it. I know.” She swung her feet to the floor and put her book down.

He was looking at her with an expression she didn’t recognise. It certainly wasn’t any of his easy, adoring expressions she was growing used to in public, but there was something…deeper about it.

Before she had a chance to figure it out, though, Steve walked in.

“Ready Darce?” he said, in a very chipper tone.

“This is really going to hurt, isn’t it.” She said as she dragged herself towards him.

“Probably,” said Steve with a grin that wasn’t even mildly sympathetic.

“Just try to bring her back in one piece punk,” growled Bucky, his arms crossed and his face moody.

“Course I will,” said Steve, quirking a brow at his friend.

+

+

Darcy thought that “one piece” might be slightly overstating her condition when she made it back to the common room.

However, she momentarily completely forgot the fatigue and stiffness in her limbs, because Barnes was sprawled on the couch, about halfway through the book she had left behind.

“Having fun?” she asked him with a grin.

He looked up sharply, then down at the book he was holding, then back to her. Finally he sighed, putting it aside. “Yeah,” he said resignedly, “I hear it’s a classic. Come on, sit down before you fall down.”

He cleared space for her on the couch and she gratefully fell onto the cushions.

“You alive?” he asked her after a moment.

“Ask me tomorrow,” she said, shifting with a groan. “It was fun though,” and she wasn’t even lying about that, “Steve’s a really good teacher.”

“Yeah,” he said non committally, as he rolled to his feet. Darcy looked up at him questioningly.

“Sit there,” he said, “I’ll be right back.”

She dug around for the remote to the enormous TV on the wall opposite and started flicking through channels, hearing Barnes rummaging around in the kitchen.

He came back a few moments later with a delicious looking sandwich, a banana, a huge glass of water and two anti-inflammatories.

She was about to make some sort of teasing remark about his mother henning, but something in the way he was looking at her stopped the comment before it came out.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

“Any time,” his smile was quiet but real.

They sat there in companionable silence for a long while, and Darcy wondered if, at some point after all this was over, things could ever be like this between them again; simple and steady without all the artifice and intrigue.

She hoped so.

+

+

While meeting Darcy’s parents had actually gone quite well, the aftermath was a totally different story.

The moment they got in the car to drive back to the city, Barnes completely shut down. They had agreed before hand that she would come back to the tower with him, which she had started doing most nights, but he didn’t say a word to her the whole drive.

When the elevator let them off on the common floor, Barnes stormed past Steve and Nat, who were sitting at the kitchen table rifling through some blueprints, and Darcy heard the door to his suite slam behind him.

Both Steve and Natasha looked up at her curiously.

“Went that well did it?” asked Steve resignedly.

“Oh Dr. Jeckyll did great,” she said icily, kicking off her shoes with a bit more force than required, “he was charming, my mother _loved_ him. My Dad tolerated him, which is saying something. But Mr. Hyde over there hasn’t said a word since we left.”

Steve and Natasha looked at each other for a moment, doing that weird wonder twins power communication thing that Darcy had noticed them doing more and more often.

Natasha walked over to her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze, “I’ll go talk to the beast,” she said with a grin before following Barnes down the hall.

“Was he always this infuriating?” she asked Steve, as she flopped onto the couch.

“Yes,” said Steve at once, “probably worse before.” He grinned, but was watching her with concern as he sat down next to her.

“He hates this, you know,” said Steve after a minute, “lying to the people you care about.”

Darcy let out a long sigh, “How do you always manage to make me feel sorry for him when he’s being a repressed jerk?” she asked, but without any venom.

Steve shrugged, “The guy could use a little sympathy, I think,” he said, “particularly where you’re concerned.”

She turned a questioning eye on him, as she could see him deciding whether or not to go on. Finally Steve let out a resigned noise.

“He’s going to kill you when he finds out I’m telling you this,” he said at last.

“You keep saying that,” said Darcy, incredibly interested to know what Steve had to say, “but he keeps not killing you.”

Steve grinned.

“You were his first job with SHIELD, well,” Steve corrected himself, “the new SHIELD.”

“What?”

“After the leak, and after he came back, his first official task when he was on the duty roster was surveillance and intel.”

“On me,” Darcy said weakly.

“Yeah,” said Steve, “on you. He was the one that tracked down the threats you were being exposed to in the first place. I think he feels…responsible for you.”

“Oh,” said Darcy heavily.

“And I also think he feels like he’s making your life…worse, or harder I guess.”

“Well it’s not _his_ fault all my info is out there for the world to find,” she smacked Steve’s shoulder. It had little effect on him.

“You know how sorry I…” Steve started with painful sincerity.

“Oh stop it,” she said, letting her head fall against his shoulder.

“Will you tell him…” she started after a little while, “Will you tell him some time that he’s making things better? Maybe he’ll listen to it from you.”

“I’ll try,” said Steve with a fond smile.

It was just easier for the moment to let Steve carry her weight, so she didn’t see Bucky move around the corner, take one look at the pair on the couch, and turn around and walk away.


	4. Part Four

Something was different. Things had been getting progressively better as far as Barnes’ public reputation was concerned, and the analyst chatter suggested that low grade bad guys were even more terrified of Barnes than the paparazzi, but things had been getting progressively harder between her and Barnes.

Something was different, she just wasn’t quite sure what, and she wasn’t quite sure how much of it was her fault, but she could feel things slowly tilting sideways on her.

Not that this whole situation had ever felt exactly _normal_ , but it was headed straight for absolutely fucked up town really fast.

She thought she had sort of been getting a handle on Barnes. He remained the ideal boyfriend in public, and in private she thought she was growing to know him. He was quiet, and often sad, but also kind and funny and loyal and brave.

But ever since he had met (and charmed, and lied to) her parents, and Steve had told her that Barnes may not have really started out totally indifferent to her, there was a shift.

Going out in public with Barnes was still an odd experience, and she could never quite relax into it the way he seemed to. But he had always been very respectful of her space and her newness at all of this. They hadn’t kissed in public, Barnes always finding a safe route out of it. He was casually affectionate, but always appropriate. His hands never strayed anywhere impolite and the moment he sensed any kind of discomfort from her, he would back off.

At least, he did before.

Now, he started picking places to go where they were required to be close; dimly lit bars with loud music where he pressed close to her to speak into her ear, dancing at venues where a polite foxtrot would be very out of place.

And, if she wasn’t very much mistaken, he was _taunting_ the paparazzi. Letting them get close enough to start asking questions before he sent them running in fear.

However, the closer he moved to her in the public eye, the farther he seemed to move away from her when they were in private.

The push and pull of those two opposites were starting to wear her out for reasons she firmly did not wish to analyse.

Finally, one Sunday morning, it led her to escape the tower where she was supposed to be holed up with Bucky for the weekend for the sake of the tabloids and make a break for a few minutes of freedom and space.

It wasn’t as though the tower didn’t have impressively high ceilings and expansive views, but somehow Barnes seemed to fill them all up even when he wasn’t in the room.

She wondered, rather bitterly, if her ten whole minutes of freedom had been worth it when she walked around a corner into a small knot of photographers who did _not_ take long to figure out exactly who she was and start swarming.

Unlike Natasha and Barnes, she couldn’t make them go away with a dirty look. It was the first time she had faced the press on her own, and she had to admit, she was beginning to sympathise with the celebrities who let loose on the paparazzi. They were hemming her in against the brick building at her back, leaving her no clear escape route.

“Why are you out without your boyfriend?”

“Is it true that you’re splitting up?”

“Any truth to the rumour that you’re seeing Captain America on the side.”

She took a deep breath and tried to channel Natasha. She rolled her eyes.

“Come on guys,” she said as calmly as she could, “Don’t make me set Bucky on you. I’m just trying to walk down the street here.”

Even the power of his name only resulted in them taking a step back.

“Without the Winter Soldier? Isn’t he worried about making you a target? Aren’t you afraid of being targeted?” one of the pushier ones pressed on.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, in honest astonishment, “I’m pretty sure that most people with an ounce of sense know that the fastest way to have their assess handed to them by the Avengers is to start messing with the people they care about.”

“Incredibly true,” came a low growl of a voice from behind the pack of press, who froze, turning in almost comical unison to see an incredibly angry James Barnes behind them.

While she had left the tower to get away from him, it was with honest relief that she smiled at him as the press started to distance themselves. It didn’t stop them from taking pictures, but she at least had a clear route out.

“I was waiting for you at the furniture store,” he said easily, stepping through the crowd to take her hand, pulling her ever so slightly behind him. “Got worried.”

“Sorry Buck,” she said, and she honestly meant it. No breath of fresh air was worth this. “I was running late, and then I ran into these guys.”

“Furniture store?” piped up a reporter.

“Yes,” Bucky ground out, “furniture store.” But he didn’t seem inclined to elaborate. “And I would very much appreciate it,” he went on in a tone that clearly indicated this was not a request, “that you refrain from crowding Darcy like this or throwing baseless rumours about us in her face. It makes me…very irritated.” He finished, his jaw clenching in almost comedic aggression.

Of course, they didn’t know it was an act he was putting on (and, if you asked Darcy, overdoing a bit). They didn’t need to be told twice and in moments they were left alone.

“You alright?” he asked at once, hands falling to her hips as he looked her over carefully.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” she said. “But…do you mind if we do the furniture thing another day? I just want to go home.”

“Of course,” he said, tucking her against his side as they set off walking.

It was a quiet walk, and despite the easy way they had learned to move together, side by side, like this and despite the way she leaned into his shoulder as the nerves slowly drained out of her, she could feel the tension in him.

She knew she was about to get an earful the minute they were out of public, and he did not disappoint.

“What the _hell_ Lewis?” he hissed at her, immediately dropping his arm and stepping away as the elevator door closed behind them.

“I’m sorry, okay!” she responded defensively, “I didn’t think that…”

“No, you didn’t think, did you?” he said darkly, crossing his arms.

“I just wanted to go for a walk,” she said, feeling defeated and deflated, because she knew he was right.

“So call me, call Steve, call Natasha,” he said tightly, “use your damn head.”

“Lord forbid that I get even five seconds to myself,” Darcy said, exasperated. “And what, were you following me?” she was starting to work up a good head of steam now. “And what the heck kind of cover story was a furniture store?” Not her most cutting remark, but it would have to do.

“Of course I was following you,” he said tersely, “and the furniture store was laying the groundwork for you moving into the tower, because I will be _damned_ if I’m letting you go back to Chelsea if this is how you are going to behave.”

“I’m not a child, Barnes,” she was spitting mad at this point, and not about to censor herself, “and I don’t think I’m being irrational or crazy. I just needed some goddamn time _away from you_.”

The elevator chimed and opened up onto the common floor.

Barnes just stood there staring at her for a long moment. He opened his mouth, as if he was about to respond, but then a blaring alarm went off.

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Looks like you got your wish, sweetheart,” he said with a tone that could cut glass.

+

+

Moving into the tower was far easier than she had thought it would be. There was a spare suite on the same floor as Steve and Bucky. Tony filed some plans with the city to tear down the wall between hers and Barnes’s suite, and then just didn’t.

It didn’t stop the “Love Nest at Stark Tower: Is the Winter Soldier’s Main Squeeze Moving In?” story from running in the tabloids.

Thankfully, he had been out of town for the last two weeks on the mission he had been called away to when they last spoke, which made moving into his space far less jarring.

Well, perhaps “thankfully” would be a bit of a stretch.

It was the first time he had been gone on an extended mission since this whole fake relationship thing started and Darcy found that she missed him more than she thought she would.

She didn’t miss the pretending, the effort it took to remind herself that the way Bucky touched her in public, the easy affection he showed wasn’t real. But she missed the quiet and considerate Barnes that she knew around the tower. She even missed the surly and over protective Barnes that could drive her absolutely _crazy_ with nothing more than a look.

And she found that however fake their relationship might be, and however irritated she had been the last time they spoke, her worry for him was very very real. She knew she wouldn’t be able to draw a full breath until she saw him again.

It was becoming harder and harder to deny the things she was trying so hard to push down.

When the call came in letting her and Jane, who had been glued to the news to try and catch a glimpse of what was going in, know that the team was coming in, Darcy tried to control the shaking relief that was rushing through her. It wouldn’t do to be tear stained and shaky when Barnes made it back to the tower.

Of course, though, last minute technical malfunctions (which, lets be clear, Darcy really wished she had been told meant a GIANT HOLE IN THE PLANE before she saw it so she could prepare herself) meant that the team was going to be touching down at La Guardia.

And Jane was immediately heading for the helipad so she could go and meet them, which meant that Darcy was going too.

+

+

The plane had just barely skidded to a halt when their helicopter touched down.

Darcy felt the bottom drop out of her stomach when she saw the condition that it was in. She was vaguely aware that news crews and cameras were pulling in all around them, but she wasn’t thinking about that at all when she saw a tall, dark haired figure in black duck out from under the half ruined hatchway and step onto the tarmac.

She was running before she really processed the decision. And for once, she didn’t see him process, didn’t see him scan for the cameras and the reporters, before he dropped his gear, sprinted for her, and swept her up against his chest in an impact that almost took her breath away.

This time there was no calculation, no preparation before his lips crashed into hers. He tasted of gunpowder and smoke and sweat, but she couldn’t care at all. Her hands were clutching to feel him under the stiff shell of his armour, and his tongue was in her mouth, and his hand was clutching at her hair and there was nothing else in the world for a moment.

And pressing against him like this, it was impossible to ignore any more.

She didn’t want this thing between them to be fake.

“Hey,” he said finally, pulling away from her and sweeping her hair back behind her ear. He was looking at her very carefully, like he was searching for something.

“Are you hurt?” was all she could think to ask, “Did I hurt you.”

“Naw,” he said dismissively, his left hand falling to wrap around hers, “nothing a shower and a good sleep wont cure.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said, looking up at him, unable to get anything more complex to solidify into words. Her head was swirling and she felt a little bit lost.

She could see a hint of a question in his eyes, but he just slung an arm around her shoulder, and she threaded hers around his waist, and they headed for the helicopter.

“C’mon love,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss against her hair, “lets go home.”

+

+

But when they got home, the moment the door to the helipad closed behind them, he stepped away from her, putting the same distance between them that he always did.

Only this time she didn’t want to accept is as normal or right anymore, couldn’t.

But she could hardly blame him for it. He had told her right at the beginning: _It’s not real_.

She thought maybe he looked a little hurt when she didn’t want to stay for the post mission rehash that seemed to involve a lot of food and drinks, but all she wanted to do was lie down on her bed, wonder how she had gotten herself into this situation, and maybe have a bit of a cry.

+

+

The next morning, though, she found the source of her current misery sitting at the small round kitchen table in her suite, reading a newspaper and picking at a pile of what looked like freshly made pancakes.

“Hey,” he said, brightening and putting the paper down when she shuffled in.

“What’s this?” she asked stiffly, crossing her arms in front of her as she realised that all she was wearing was shorts and a thin sweater.

“Breakfast?” he said a bit tentatively, “I know last night was a bit…”

“No,” she said forcefully, all of her confusion and misery and tension boiling up into something like anger, “What _is_ this? Why are you doing this? We’re in the tower. You were the one that said it was important to remember that this _thing_ ,” she gestured between the two of them, “isn’t real. Aren’t you kind of blurring the lines here?”

She had meant to sound calm and reasonable, but she thought it came across as a bit more shrill and panicky.

He looked at her for a long, still moment.

And then he simply stood up and walked out.

+

+

The next week was excruciating.

If Darcy had thought Barnes was being distant in the tower before hand, she hadn’t had any idea of how distant someone could be while living next door to you.

Thankfully the papers were still running the photo of them clinging to each other like their lives depended on it on the tarmac, so there was no immediate need to go out and make public appearances.

Darcy didn’t think she could have handled it. As it was, if he walked by her, his eyes swinging past her like she was part of the scenery, one more time she was going to scream.

Which is why she found herself somewhat aimlessly wandering around the city. She knew perfectly well it wasn’t a good idea. She still recalled what had happened the last time, and she knew her self defence lessons with Steve had by no means prepared her for a real life situation, but she just needed _air_. And, if she was being honest with herself, it had cross her mind that at least when Barnes had been yelling at her, he had been _looking_ at her.

She only had a moment to feel a stab of regret when, all at once, a black SUV pulled up beside her, hands reached out, she felt a sharp pain in her neck, and then she was gone.

+

+

As kidnappings went, she thought she was probably getting off pretty easy. She was already shaking off whatever they had dosed her with when the van pulled to a stop.

She made a panicky check of her left wrist and discovered that the fake medic alert bracelet (claiming severe nut allergy but actually holding a GPS transmitter) was still in place.

And after no more than two minutes lying in terrified silence on the cold floor of the truck, she heard the distinct sounds of gunfire and combat outside the door.

Within ten minutes, the door creaked open, and Barnes pulled the blindfold off of her eyes and the gag out of her mouth.

“Darce? Are you okay? Say something.” There was absolutely nothing distant in his eyes as he helped her up to a sitting position. And she was scared and groggy and disoriented, so she didn’t feel like thinking about it too much. She just let her head fall against his shoulder and let out a low whimper as he pulled her up into his arms.

They were quiet, the two of them. She could hear Steve and Nat and Clint talking to Coulson over the comms as Bucky carried her back to the vehicle that they came in, but she didn’t lift her head from where it was pressed into his shoulder, and he didn’t put her down even as he climbed into the back of the truck.

He carefully set her down long enough for a quick once over by medical, and then he was taking her back to her room, setting her down on her bed, and settling in next to her, pulling her against his chest.

They didn’t speak for a long time, and Darcy thought maybe she could just fall asleep like this, and maybe it could always be like this, and they didn’t need to talk about it.

But them Bucky’s low voice rumbled under her ear. “Just…tell me what I can do to make this easier for you,” he said. “I can ignore you, if you like. Or we could go back to the way things were. I just…you’re unhappy. We could call it quits, you know? Especially if...” she felt him take a deep breath. “Especially if there’s someone else you wanted to be with.”

She pulled back so she could look up at him, because that was absolutely the last thing she thought he was going to say.

“Someone else?” she asked, genuinely confused.

There was a long, tense pause, and he was looking up at the ceiling rather than at her. “I know…I know you like spending time with Steve.”

And despite the heavy ache in her head and all the bruises and pains the day had left her with and the weariness that the adrenaline had left behind it, Darcy had _had it._

She let out a frustrated noise and rolled to the side, away from him. “You are _impossible,_ you know that Barnes?” she cut out.

“I…” and she looked back at him, his wide eyed bewildered expression tugging at something deep in her gut.

She let out a long sigh. She supposed there was no getting out of it now.

“I like spending time with _you,_ you idiot,” she said fiercely. And then, immediately regretting the decision, “And I know that’s not fair to you, and I know this is all fake and…”

She was cut off, because all at once Bucky’s hand was at her face and he was kissing her.

It wasn’t like any of the other two kisses they had shared. It was soft, somehow, maybe even reverent. And very brief. But it left her stunned.

“When we couldn’t find you today,” he said, looking down at her as his left hand slipped through a few strands of her hair, “my heart stopped. It’s been so hard, for so long, to step away from you when we come home and I…”

“So don’t,” she said, a slow, warm smile bubbling up right from her core.

A soft look of wonder and disbelief crossed his face, just for an instant. She didn’t think he realised, but it was not a look she was likely to forget anytime soon.

No one had ever looked at her like that before in her life.

It was a stunning sort of realisation, and she thought they both just wanted to sit with it for a little while, because Bucky just pulled her against his chest, her arms tucked up against him, one hand splayed against the small of her back and the other running slowly over her hair and they spent a good long while just breathing together.

“You should know,” he said finally, “That I knew who you were before I agreed to any of this.”

“I know,” she said calmly, with a little grin at the stunned silence that followed, “Steve told me.”

Bucky let out a low curse against her hair, but she thought he sounded pretty amused. “Steve’s a jerk. Don’t listen to him.” He said grumpily.

“Why did you agree?” she asked tentatively.

“I shouldn’t have,” he said, as his thumb gently moved back and forth against her back.

“Why?” Darcy asked, indignant, but unwilling to move from against the warmth of his chest to show proper outrage.

“I was too…invested,” he said finally, a bit carefully. “But when Coulson said that you needed protection, and this was the best way, I…” he managed a bit of a shrug.

“Oh,” she hid a wide grin in his shirt.

“And you really…I mean, you and Steve aren’t…”

Darcy propped herself up, looking him in the eyes, because she got the feeling this was going to be important.

“Bucky,” she said carefully, “your friend Steve is a really nice guy and has been very supportive through this whole…thing we’ve been doing. But all we ever talk about is _you_.”

“Is that right?” he said, looking up at her with a dangerous sort of half smile that set her insides spinning and made her forget entirely about the sort of day she had just had.

“Well,” she said, holding a very serious expression, “you, and self defence.”

In a whirling sort of motion that happened too fast for her to track how he had actually accomplished it, she was lying on her back, Bucky braced on his arms above her.

“You might need a better teacher,” he said. The dangerous twist to his lips and the look in his eyes was almost entirely unlike any of the carefully planned and playacted looks he had given her in public before.

And it was far more effective.

She wrapped a hand behind his neck, fully aware that he was letting her pull him down against her. She tilted her head up so she could press her lips against his, his body pressing down the length of hers, legs slotting together like puzzle pieces.

And she thought that all of the time they had spent pretending in public may not have been as fake as she had thought for him, because she found she could read his body clearly, gauge his reactions by the low noises he made as she worked her hands up his back and under his shirt. She knew already that she could make him pull in a sharp, shuddering breath by running her teeth against the soft skin behind his ear.

And, whether by ingrained skill or by what he knew of her, he was driving her to distraction without even setting a hand below her waist or under her shirt.

After a few breathless moments, he pulled back, his mouth kiss swollen and his hair tousled, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

“We should stop,” he said reluctantly, rolling to the side so he lay shoulder to shoulder with her.

“Yeah,” she agreed softly, “It’s been a bit of a day.” She was wondering when he was going to get around to yelling at her.

She caught his grin out of the corner of her eye, “I’m not going to yell at you,” he said, sounding nothing more than resigned.

“You can read minds now?” Darcy asked dryly.

“I can read you,” he said, turning on his side to look at her steadily.

“Oh,” she said, a little breathless, her eyes falling to his mouth again.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed heavily.

“You were right,” he finally said thickly, “I had no right to follow you like that, to keep you locked up here.”

“Well,” said Darcy, stretching her neck with a wince, “You apparently had good reason.”

“If I had been a little nicer,” he said with a level of self hatred that Darcy really disliked, “maybe you would have just told me you wanted some time alone and we could have worked it out safely.”

Darcy turned towards him, placing a hand on his cheek. “I think you’re plenty nice,” she said, leaning in to kiss him, slow and gentle, before pulling back with a mischievous smile, “most of the time.”

He blew out a short breath, looking down at her with a depth of focus that was almost frightening. “I should go,” he said abruptly, “let you get some rest.”

“Could you…” she swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, “Could you stay?”

He looked tempted and torn for a moment.

“Just stay, I mean,” she corrected hastily. “When you’re around…I just…I feel safe with you.”

A slow, sort of amazed smile was teasing at the corners of his lips. “Yeah,” he said, turning onto his back again, “I can stay.”

She scooted closer to him, laying her head on his chest and tucking one leg over his. His arm came around her shoulder, left hand gently running through her hair.

And she fell asleep there, listening to the steady beat of his heart and draw of his breath.

+

+

Putting up with eye rolls and knowing glances from the other residents of the tower was a very small price to pay for the heady glow of the new closeness between her and Bucky, and the small and quiet but steadily growing sense of trust and calm she felt around him.

But they only had a few days to enjoy it before reality hit.

They were called into a meeting with Phil and the analysts early in the morning. They arrived in good spirits, Bucky still hiding a grin from Darcy’s suggestion that Phil and the Analysts would make a great name for a prog-rock band.

The moment they realised what the meeting was about, Darcy could feel the tension creeping upwards at an alarming rate.

“We all agree that the profile management has gone better than we could have expected,” said Coulson, “So we’re ready to move forward with the operation.”

It took Darcy a moment to realise that by “operation” Coulson actually meant “wedding.”

The reality of the fact that she had agreed to get married to a man she’d confessed her feeling to for the first time three days ago slammed into her like a brick.

“Oh,” she said, “Right.”

“We’ve taken the liberty of putting together a small ceremony to provide appropriate photos to release to the press afterwards. Everything is in order and is ready to go for tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow?” Darcy asked, wishing her voice sounded a little less screechy.

“Don’t worry,” Coulson said reassuringly, “We’re flying your parents in and we’ve found you a dress.”

+

+

She didn’t get a chance to have a moment alone with Bucky at all in the next 24 hours. Getting ready for the last minute wedding took up all of her time.

Not, however, all of her concentration.

What this meant and whether you could still call this wedding a sham and oh god, did Bucky even want to go through with this anymore was constantly looping through her head.

Natasha, who had put herself in charge of managing Darcy (micromanaging, really) and getting her to the altar, tried once to ask her how she was doing, but after Darcy’s shaking and anxious “I have _no_ fucking idea,” thought the better of bringing it up again.

Before she knew it, she was sitting in Tony Stark’s guest suite, dressed in a (she had to admit) incredibly beautiful white dress, looking better than she thought she ever had in her life, and getting ready to walk out onto the balcony of Stark Tower to get _married_.

Her parents, who Darcy was holding out hope might call a stop to this whole thing, were actually _excited_ for her. Her mother’s tearful declaration that her daughter marrying a man that loved her the way James obviously loved her was all she could ever have hoped for sat like a rock in her gut, because Barnes had never said those words to her. They were _three days_ into any kind of real relationship, for Christ’s sake!

She nearly jumped out of her skin when a quiet knock sounded against the door.

“Darce?” Bucky was on the other side of the door.

She immediately moved to open it, the skirt of her dress rustling behind her.

“Don’t open the door,” he said, just as her hand gripped the handle, “Nat made me promise.”

“Just a crack?” Darcy asked, suddenly feeling a desperate need for contact, to hold on to something.

He pushed the door open just wide enough so he could reach his hand in to hold onto hers. She squeezed it back tightly.

“So,” he said, “this is weird.”

Darcy let out a surprised little laugh. “Yeah,” she said, “It really is.”

“We don’t need to go through with this. I can deal with Coulson. It’s…it’s different now.”

The question of whether or not she wanted to do this, whether or not they _should_ had been rolling around in her head non stop for the past day.

But it was like when you flip a coin to make a tough decision and the minute it spins in the air, you’re hoping for it to land heads up. The minute that the option of turning around and walking away from this was placed in front of her, she knew she didn’t want it.

She let out a slow breath and tried to choose her words carefully.

“Bucky…I’m not going to hold to the vows we’re about to make. It’s been such a short time…” she felt his hand tense around hers, “but…” she went on tentatively, “It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? I mean, I think you and me, we’re worth a shot.”

She could feel his weight lean against the door, pressing against her shoulder through the barrier; his thumb began moving in slow circles on her palm.

“I wish I could see you right now,” he said in a low voice that sent heat pooling in her belly just at the sound of it.

“Well,” she said, supposing that this was as good an answer to her question as any, “You’ll see me in a few minutes if you get back up to that altar, solider.”

Her lingering doubt, the fear that he was going to say this was too much, too soon, was swept away without a trace as he answered her, amusement and anticipation and something deep and slow clear in his voice as he said “Yes ma’am.”


	5. Epilogue

It was just before Christmas, and she and Bucky were running around frantically trying to prepare to head out to her parent’s place for a few days when the call came in.

Bucky picked up the receiver with a terse “Yes?” and then after a moment. “Jarvis, put the call on speaker please.”

He walked back over to her to help her pull her suitcase down from the high shelf in the closet. “It’s Coulson,” he said sourly.

“I heard that,” Coulson’s voice came clear through the speakers in the apartment.

“I know,” Barnes said with a little sideways grin at Darcy.

“I won’t keep you long,” he said, and Darcy could almost _see_ his exasperation, “I just wanted to pass on some good news. We’ve got enough systems and operatives up and running at this point that we think it’s safe for your relationship to come to an end. We can work out the best way to dissolve things after the holidays; I just thought you’d want to know.”

“Yeah,” said Darcy stiffly, looking carefully at Bucky, “thanks.”

With a click, the call disconnected. But they just stood there, staring at each other in the bedroom they had been sharing for just over six months now.

It had been a _really good_ six months.

And just like that, the whole reason for them to be living together, to be married, was gone. Could they step back now? Start taking things at a normal pace? Did he _want_ to take a step back?

“Well,” said Darcy, as the silence grew stifling, “one of us has to say something…”

Bucky took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. But when he spoke, he looked her in the eye, the steadiness of him that she loved so much calming her racing nerves.

“Darce, if you want to undo this, if you want some distance, I’ll do it,” he paused, swallowing heavily, “but of all the things I’ve ever been in my life, being married to you is by far the best.”

“Thank _God_ ,” she blew out in a rush, throwing herself into his arms. It was amazing, really, how quickly it calmed her. His arms around her and the steady beat of his heart under her ear had so quickly become _home_ to her.

“I love you, you know,” she said, her voice ever so slightly muffled against his sweater. “This thing, _us_ , it’s been real to me for a long time now.”

His arms tightened around her and his chin rested on the top of her head. “Darcy,” he breathed against her hair, “Love. It’s always been real to me.”


End file.
